


You Always Wanted a Dog...

by Pineprin137



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Dean Winchester, Blood and Violence, But when is it ever not with the Winchesters..., Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Demon Dean Winchester, Demonic Possession, Graphic Depictions of Illness, He isn't always a dick, Hell, M/M, Sam couldn't cure Dean, Sick Character, Sick Dean Winchester, Sort of? - Freeform, it's complicated... - Freeform, sometimes he is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23268892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineprin137/pseuds/Pineprin137
Summary: Sam wasn't able to completely cure Demon Dean, however, he was able to bring back a little humanity. It's tough juggling a world he knows nothing about, but Dean is there to show him the way.Plus, Sam's learning about all the perks that come with his brother being a demon.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59





	1. Surprise!

“Dean?” Sam said, shuffling into the library. “What are you doing up?” 

Dean smirked. “Technically, demons don’t sleep, so…” 

_ Ah, the bitchface. He’d missed that.  _

“You know what I mean. It’s like three in the morning, what are you doing?” 

“I’m looking for something,” he said before going back to scanning the shelves. 

Sam took a seat at the table, rubbed a hand under his eyes. “What’re you looking for? Maybe I can help.” 

Dean thought about it for a minute.  _ Sammy’s right-- he organized this mess so he should know where the spell is. _

“It’s a spell.” 

“Okay… what kind?” 

“It makes things visible.” 

Sam frowned. “Things?” 

Dean sighed and took a seat across from his brother. “Yeah, you know, so uh, humans can see ‘em.” 

The younger man rose and walked over to the shelf. He crouched down, running his fingers along the book spines until he found the one he was looking for. He carried the thin black book over to the table but didn’t hand it to Dean. 

“What do you need it for?” 

Dean reached for it, scowled when Sam moved it out of his reach. He huffed. 

“It’s…”  _ none of your fucking business _ “... a surprise.” 

“Fine. Don’t do anything crazy though.” 

Dean stood and accepted the book. He saluted Sam on his way out. “Aye, Aye, Captain.” 

Sam rolled his eyes. Demon Dean could be a real douche sometimes. 

* * *

_ “Okay, here we go. Once we enchant these collars, Sammy should be able to see you and you can explore. But you have to be good. No biting, no dragging to hell, no shitting on the floor. Got it?”  _

Sam paused in the hallway outside of Dean’s room. He seemed to be talking to himself… 

_ “No, no, Sunny, stop! You can’t do that. Butch, come here. Oh, for fuck’s sake, you guys follow me everywhere but now that I want to give you a present, you hide under the bed?!”  _

There was a heavy sigh then the door banged open. Sam jumped back. 

Dean strolled past him. “Do we have any bacon left?” 

“Huh?” Sam asked, confused. He followed after his brother in a daze. What the hell was going on? 

“Bacon. Do we have any? Raw, not cooked,” Dean explained as they entered the kitchen and he headed to the fridge. 

“Uh… yeah. I think so. In the bottom drawer? Dean, man, what’s going on?” 

Dean turned around and grabbed a large knife out of the block on the counter. He sliced the package open. He chucked the raw strips onto the cutting board and cut them up into little bite-sized pieces. 

Sam stared at him. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m chopping up some bacon.” 

“I see that, but uh, why is it so small? You normally eat the strips whole.” 

Dean shrugged. “It’s not for me.” He dumped the pieces into a small bowl then headed back toward his room, calling over his shoulder, “Wait ten minutes before you follow okay? They should be ready by then.” 

Sam had no intention of waiting two minutes, let alone ten. He walked over to the doorway but stopped when Dean turned around and flashed his black eyes. 

“I mean it, Sammy. Ten minutes.” 

With his brother’s curiosity on hold, Dean hurried back to his room. He set the bowl on the bed then kneeled on the floor and peeked under the bed. 

“Come here, sweet girl. Come on…” he cooed, trying to get Sunny to come out. Sunny looked back at her brother and Dean mentally rolled his eyes-- if anyone could convince Sunny to stay under the bed, it would be Butch. 

He reached into the bowl, tossed a few pieces under the bed. Sunny’s nose twitched and Dean heard soft snuffling as she sought out the raw meat. Butch, on the other hand, swatted it away with his paw then growled. 

“Oh, come on. Butch, it’s okay. Come out here and I’ll scratch your belly…” 

The growling ceased. A very timid snout poked out of the darkness. 

“That’s a boy, come on. Come to Daddy.” Dean shifted his focus back to Sunny. She crawled forward on her belly to give his hand a tentative lick. 

Dean praised her, “Good girl, Sunny.” She inched the rest of the way out. Dean snagged her and quickly fastened the yellow collar around her neck. 

Like he was expecting, she yipped and Butch immediately shot forward to protect her. His teeth sunk into Dean’s arm. 

“Ow! Shit! Bad dog! Let go!” He hollered, wrestling with the small animal until he got the red collar buckled. He shouted in triumph, “HA! Gotchya!” 

There was a knock on the door. 

“Dean?” 

Dean sat down on the edge of his bed with the two pups under his arms. “Okay, Sammy, you can come in now.” 

The door opened and Sam peeked around the door. “What the-- Dean, are those  _ dogs _ ?” 

“Well, technically, they’re puppies.” 

Sam slowly walked forward. “Why do you have puppies? Where did they come from?” 

Dean stayed still while Sam crouched down in front of him. His brother held out a hand for the hounds to sniff. Butch growled of course, but Sunny’s tail immediately started wagging. She pawed at Sam and Dean handed her over, much to Butch’s displeasure. 

Sam accepted the small dog into his arms, gave Dean a pointed look. “What the hell, Dean?” 

Dean chuckled, running his hand over the back of his head. “Well, funny you should mention that…” 

Sam looked up from where Sunny was trying to bite the hand petting her belly. “What do you mean?” 

Dean took a deep breath before smiling weakly at his brother. 

“Sam, meet Butch and Sundance… my hell hounds.” 


	2. It Was Love At First Glare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little backstory about how Dean got Butch and Sundance. Also, a glimpse of the after-effects of the blood purification ritual.

Sam balked, holding Sunny out in front of him, eyeing her warily. She tilted her head, let her tongue loll out of the side of her mouth. “Hell hounds?” 

Butch had finally settled down, curling up in Dean’s lap for a snooze. Dean petted him softly. “Yeah. I guess it’s one of the perks of being a demon. Everyone gets their own hell hound.” 

Sam frowned in thought. Something was off… 

“Wait-- I thought humans can’t see hell hounds.” 

Dean nodded. “You can’t. But I enchanted their collars so you can. As long as they’re wearing them, you’ll be able to see them.” 

Sam leaned against the door frame, his hand still distractedly tickling Sunny’s belly. 

“That’s what the spell was for?” he said finally. 

“Yup. I’ve been keeping them in here, but they’re dying to get out. Not to mention I was pretty sure if Butch chewed on any more of my shoes I might just kill him.” He bopped the dog in his lap on the nose. 

“Little shit.” 

There was a long silence. Dean was trying to placate Butch by feeding him small scraps of bacon and Sam was digesting all of the new information. Then suddenly, something caught Sunny’s attention. She jumped from Sam’s arms and raced down the hall. 

“CRAP! Sunny! Get back here!” Dean yelled, chasing after her with Butch securely held under one arm. “Damnit, Sammy!” 

It took Sam a minute to realize his brother was now yelling at him instead of the hounds. 

“The hell did I do?” He grumbled, following after them. 

When he finally rounded the corner into the library, he saw a standoff. Castiel was standing at the bottom of the stairs while Sunny growled at him. Butch had escaped Dean’s hold and he too was threatening the angel. 

Cas frowned at the two small balls of fur. He could sense the residue leftover from Hell. Dean slowly approached the trio, speaking softly so as not to spook the hounds. 

“Sunny. Butch. Meet Cas. Cas is our friend. We don’t hurt Daddy’s friends… right?” 

Sam saw the pups ears twitch showing they were listening to Dean’s voice. However, Butch seemed determined to scare Cas. It was actually kind of cute, watching him snort and snarl, laying his ears back so Cas would know he was a threat. Sunny, on the other hand, decided if Dean was okay with the angel being here, then so was she. 

She slowly circled him, flinching when he turned to look at her. She stayed still until he looked away then began scenting him, sniffing the air around him, the bottom of his trench coat, his shoes. When she was satisfied that he was indeed a friend and not a foe, she sat down in front of him then promptly flopped over to show him her belly. 

Dean snorted. “Guess she likes you.” 

Sunny waited for the newcomer to pet her, but he didn’t move, only squinted at her in confusion. 

“What is it doing?” He asked, glancing at Dean. 

The demon leaned against the bookcase and crossed his arms. He smirked. “ _ She _ wants you to rub her belly.” 

At the mention of her favorite activity, Sunny tilted her head, her tongue lolling out of her mouth. 

A loud huff came from the other side of Cas and both he and Sam turned to the other hound. Butch was lying on the ground with his head on his paws, obviously annoyed by his sister’s enthusiasm. 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Aw, Butch, don’t be jealous. It doesn’t suit you.” Butch turned his head toward his master and sighed heavily. The demon crouched down, pulled something from his shirt pocket. Butch immediately rose and trotted over to him. Sunny stared longingly at the hidden treat. 

The desperation on her face made Sam curious. He walked over. 

He nodded at the mystery object concealed in his brother’s fist. “Whatever that is, they must love it…” 

Dean carefully avoided showing Sam what was in his hand, nodded. “They do. Crowley told me it’s a trade secret when trying to train them. It’s worked so far…” He trailed off, clenching his eyes shut against the pain building between them. 

Butch quickly licked his chops clean then laid down beside Dean. Sunny abandoned Cas’s soft hands to hurry over to them. She placed her paws on the demon’s chest until he picked her up and cradled her. 

“Dean?” Sam asked, crouching beside his brother. He shared a concerned look with Cas. 

Although they had discovered a temporary fix to Dean’s current situation, it took a lot out of him. 

He settled his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You alright?”

Dean forced a weak smile. “Yeah, just a headache.” 

“Maybe you should lie down for a while? It might help.” 

Sunny whimpered and Dean hissed, his heightened sensitivity making him want to choke her till she stopped. He gritted his teeth, pushed her towards Sam. 

Unprepared for the worried ball of fur suddenly thrust into his arms, Sam almost tipped over. Cas took a step toward him, but the hunter was able to right himself at the last second. 

“Dean?” 

Cas spoke up, “Dean, are you alright?” 

Dean lifted his chin to squint at his best friend. “I’m good. Just uh, need a nap…” An intense wave of pain radiated throughout his skull and the room tipped before his eyes. His hand shot out to steady himself and found Butch’s thick fur. 

He swallowed thickly. “Sammy…” 

Dean’s breath grew labored, a sick sheen coating his skin. Butch carefully stood up then nosed at his throbbing temples. 

Again, the two other men in the room exchanged a quick look then Sam set Sunny down so he could take one side while Cas took the other. As soon as he was standing, the demon began to shiver. They made it about three steps before Dean stopped. 

Sam watched his brother swallow rapidly as he swayed. “Cas, hold up. Dean, it’s okay. If you need to puke, do it. We can clean it up later.” 

Dean pitched forward, a gush of bloody vomit splattering onto the floor in front of him. He coughed and spit, then gave a small nod. They continued. 

The hounds followed closely behind them through the hallways, stopping in front of Dean’s door. But when Sam and Cas didn’t, Butch barked. 

Sam hadn’t been sure the other pup could even whimper, let alone bark in a way that made all the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. 

“S’okay, Butch. Follow Sammy...” Dean said weakly, spittle clinging to his lips. 

Apparently, it was the right thing to say because as soon as Dean finished speaking Butch began walking towards Sam. He stopped when his sister didn’t follow, though. 

The hound turned around and sat tall. He growled low in his throat-- Sam remembered that growl. It may not be as deep as a full-grown Hell Hound, but it still had that unsettling cadence to it that he recalled hearing before Dean was torn to shreds and Jo was critically injured. 

If there was any question in Sam’s mind who was the ‘alpha’, the scene in the hallway decided it. Butch just sat there, waiting while Sunny slowly crawled up to him. She paused then tried to slink around him. In a blink of an eye, Butch sunk his teeth into her nape. 

Sunny yipped and ran toward Cas, her belly low to the ground. Sam swallowed the bitter taste of fear when Butch turned to him and took his place in the lineup. As Sam glanced at the loyal canine now plastered to his side, he gulped.  _ I did always want a dog… Butch may not be Bones, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers…  _

* * *

Dean groaned when he sat down on the bed. He didn’t recognize the room he was in, but he didn’t care as long as there was a pillow he could rest his head on. 

It felt like something was trying to claw its way out from behind his eyes. He shivered, cursing the damn Mark, Sam, Cas, the pups, anything he could to distract from the pain. 

Although the blood ritual helped to maintain  _ some  _ of Dean’s humanity, he was still a demon. Sure, the blood lust wasn’t as bad and he could eat normal food without chucking it all back up, but over-the-counter pain meds did little to dull the hellish (no pun intended) migraines or the dizzy spells. 

If only Hell could see him now-- Dean Winchester brought to his knees by a fricken headache. 

Sweat gathered at his hairline and he shivered. Someone covered him with a blanket. 

Two small lumps plopped down beside him on the bed, willing to wait out the effects of the blood ritual by his side. Dean would have snorted if he had the energy. Crowley had warned him about Hell Hounds’ loyalty. Once they chose a master, they stuck with him for life. Dean had thought it was cool but didn’t really give it much thought until a litter of damned pups was brought before the King. 

Dean had rolled his eyes, at first. Much more interested in the woman who brought them than the actual hounds, the demon set his sights on claiming her. He’d actually been in the middle of fucking her when Butch found him. Sitting on the throne  _ (easiest way to annoy Crowley) _ , her straddling his lap, nails dug so deep in her skin they drew blood-- Butch made eye contact with him and he couldn’t look away. 

Far from the runt of the litter, Butch was almost fifteen pounds of snarling displeasure. It felt like his eyes bored straight into Dean’s not-soul, clawing through him until he found a spot in the demon’s cold dead heart to call home. 

And Sundance… Oh boy, he had  _ definitely  _ not seen her coming. 

After he had grudgingly accepted Butch as his hound, Dean began bringing him along on his nightly rounds of collections. Soul collections were boring, in his opinion, but the Mark enjoyed the bloodshed and it kept Crowley off his back so he agreed. 

Butch added a little excitement to an otherwise monotonous routine of killing those destined for Hell and delivering their souls to the King of long-winded speeches. The first time Dean let Butch participate, things had gotten a little messy-- not that he’d cared. The pup had control issues. So, when Dean tried to sic him on their mark for the evening, the little hound had killed not only the bitch Crowley wanted, but also the client, a few bystanders, and even a stupid Pomeranian that ventured too close. 

In an attempt to reign in Butch’s murderous tendencies, Dean had asked for a second hound. Of course, this had caused shock and awe throughout the court as no one  _ ever _ requested a hound. The hounds chose the demons, not the other way around. 

Crowley, however, had been intrigued by the Knight of Hell’s request and allowed Dean to take a look at the rest of the pups from Butch’s litter. Sunny had caught his eye almost immediately. She’d crawled over her brothers and sisters to lick at Dean’s hand, biting down gently to show off her sharp teeth. 

As soon as Dean said “Ow” though, she released him. Instead, ducking her head and looking up at him with big sad eyes. The tawny pup reminded Dean so much of Sam in that moment that he knew he wouldn’t be able to walk away without her. Luckily, she and Butch got along even though they were complete opposites. Sunny was goofy, always letting her dark tongue hang out or shaking her head so one ear was folded while the other stood straight up. Her fluffy tail was always getting in Dean’s face and she slobbered in her sleep. But Butch… he stood erect, a bored expression on his face while Sunny trotted in front of him. His dark fur was a stark contrast to hers too. Where Sunny was fluffy and floppy, Butch was sleek and muscled. Butch liked to lay demurely at Dean’s feet but Sunny preferred to sprawl in his lap. They were so much like him and his brother that Dean knew they were meant for him. 

Looking at them now, no one would ever think the two sleeping pups were messengers of damnation. Sunny was curled up in front of him, her small body warming his chest while his heart raced. Butch was contently laid against his legs, his cold nose settled protectively on Dean’s thigh.

Warmth surrounded Dean from behind, wrapping around him until he no longer felt cold. 

He sighed, scooting back so he was more secure in his brother’s arms. Butch grumbled when the demon moved, quickly crawled forward to reclaim his spot. 

“How’s your head?” Sam asked quietly as he draped his arm over Dean. 

Butch lifted his head to give the intruding hand a few licks, then laid back down. 

Dean stroked Sunny’s fur and focused on Sam’s even breaths. He still felt vaguely nauseous and he knew if he opened his eyes, the room would still be spinning. 

“Okay. Better now that I’m laying down.” 

Sam sighed. “I wish you didn’t have to go through this every time…” 

“It’s okay, Sammy. We knew it wasn’t going to be easy.” 

“Yeah-- But you’re in pain, Dean!” When Sam dared raise his voice and Dean winced, Butch and Sunny both growled a warning. 

“Easy…” Dean murmured. 

His brother huffed. “Seriously, Dean? It’s not like I’m overreacting--” 

Dean rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t talking to you, Mr. Sensitive. I was talking to Butch and Sundance.” 

Sam shook his head. “ _ Butch and Sundance… acts like they’re his children. Have to compete with them too, I suppose?”  _

This time, Dean huffed in disbelief. “Dude. I can hear you. We’re literally inches apart. Not to mention, they can too.” 

Sam smirked. “ _ Good. _ ” He leaned over Dean to make eye contact with each pup. “He was mine first-- You got that? I’m willing to share, but  _ I _ had him first.” 

“Jealousy looks good on you, Sammy.” 

“Shut up.” Sam resettled on the bed then asked, “Why Butch and Sundance? I mean-- They’re not exactly the kind of names I’d expect a Hell Hound to have…” 

“And Juliet is?” 

Sam shook his head. His hair tickled Dean’s jaw. 

“No way, but it’s Crowley-- so kinda?” 

Dean chuckled. “True.” 

“So…?” 

Dean sighed. He wasn’t sure how much of the story he wanted to reveal. He knew that Sam would accept him no matter what, but there was something empowering in Sam thinking that he’d been a complete badass while in Hell. 

“I don’t know-- I guess they sort of reminded me of… us.” 

“Us?” Sam sounded confused. 

“Yeah, I mean-- Sunny’s this cute little lovebug and Butch is a killing machine. So...yeah. They reminded me of us.” 

Sam was quiet for few moments and Dean thought maybe he’d fallen asleep. When he spoke, Dean almost burst out laughing. 

“I guess I can see that… you’re definitely a killing machine when the situation arises… Wait a minute-- Did you just call me a lovebug?!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you figured out the hounds' breeds yet???? 
> 
> (No, they're not the same breed. Why? 'cause that's the way I keep seeing them in my head.)


	3. Dean Winchester, The Mark of Cain, or Knight of Hell-- Which Will It Be Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a lot of good days, but sometimes things get downright Hellish.

Life with Butch and Sundance was pretty normal, for the most part. 

Butch enjoyed joining Sam for his morning run while Sunny and Dean slept in, they loved bacon _and_ peanut butter, they fought over who got which toys… 

The only time Sam could really tell that they were HellHounds was when they accompanied the brothers on a hunt, or when Dean had a bad day. 

_Today_ was a bad day... 

It all started when Dean woke up at three in the morning to puke up everything he’d eaten the night before. 

While Sam held him through it, he noticed the pups weren’t hovering like they normally did whenever their master showed vulnerability. That had unsettled him a bit, but what was even more concerning was the fact that when Dean was finally finished and Sam glimpsed the contents of the bowl before he flushed and walked over to the sink, they _weren’t_ the ruby red that signaled The Mark trying to take control. No, instead, the bowl was filled with watery dark brown vomit with bits of orange, green, and white that had made up their pot roast dinner. 

His big brother’s body might not be attempting to eat itself, but it _was_ rejecting regular human fare, which didn’t bode well... 

It only got worse as the day went on-- Dean becoming more and more withdrawn. He lingered in doorways, his head tilted while he stared at Sam. His devilish grin made Sam’s skin crawl.

And then, when they were repacking the gear left over from their last hunt, they discovered the flask of holy water had sprung a leak.

“ _Motherfucker!”_ Dean hissed, his skin smoking where the water touched it. He glared at Sam with black eyes, snarling as he shoved him against the wall. _“You little bitch!”_

Sam recognized the look in those eyes, the inhuman strength, and cold regard instantly. “CAS!” he shouted, trying to free himself from the demon’s grasp. 

The hounds had been by Dean's side, but they were silent, unsure what they should do.

Though The Mark had started to bleed into Dean’s demonic side and he no longer recognized Sam as his brother, Butch and Sunny still knew who Sam was and didn’t want to attack their packmate. 

“That’s it, _hunter--_ Call for your angel...” the demon snarled, laughing maniacally, “I’d love to taste his angelic blood.” 

Hearing her master speak about ‘the angel’, Sundance faltered. She took a step back, then another. She didn’t want to hurt her friend-- Daddy had warned her not to hurt the angel. Butch turned to look at her, wondering why his sister was disobeying their Master. 

Sam used the small window to jam the needle he kept on him at all times into _(not really)_ Dean’s neck. 

With a bone-shuddering howl, the demon released the hunter. Sam dropped to the ground only to be cornered by a pissed off Wolfman pup. His sharp teeth displayed in a feral snarl while he protected his Master. 

The demon bent over the table, the holy water rushing through his veins like fire. Disgusted by the fact that a puny little hunter had managed to catch him off guard, the demon saw red. He stalked toward his prey, cracking his knuckles before he displayed his claws. Most demons didn’t look like stereotypical ‘demons’, but he wasn’t most.

His fangs elongated until they brushed against his bottom lip, his whip-like tail slashing through the air behind him. The dark-colored houndling transformed with him, its tail elongating as its eyes turned a deep red. The houndling's long claws clicked against the floor as it paced in front of its captive. 

_Holy Mother of God…_ Sam’s heart thumped wildly in his chest, fear oozing over every inch of his being as The Mark, Knight of Hell, approached him. The demonic hybrid promising, without a single word, to tear the terrified hunter limb from limb before it slurped up all of the gooey bits. 

Cas’s voice boomed throughout the library. _“Dean, you have to fight it... Remember who you are...”_

Sam frantically looked around the room, but he didn’t see the angel anywhere. He really hoped Cas was nearby because if not, Sam was surely about to be puppy chow. 

“Oh, come on, _angel_ \--” the creature taunted, turning around to face the empty room. “Show yourself! Come out and _play...!_ ” When there was no response, it turned to the hound at its side. “Find the angel _. Bring it to me.”_

Butch's alter-ego took off, charging toward the war room with Sundance hot on his heels-- she wasn’t going to let her brother hurt the angel. 

With the pups gone, Sam grabbed his only chance to appeal to his brother's humanity.

“Dean-- listen to me. This isn’t _you_. This is The Mark. You have to fight it, Dean!” 

The demonic Mark slowly turned around, its tongue lewdly sliding over its long fangs. It straddled the hunter’s lap, gripping the human’s jaw with its claws.

“What’s the matter, _Sammy_ ,” he mocked, pouting his lips. “Do you not desire me anymore? Hmm? Is it human or none?” It rolled its hips, pressing the thick ridge of its cock into Sam's stomach as it licked his ear. 

Sam said nothing, frozen in terror. He was also growing more worried about the symphony of growls and yelps coming from the other room. He really hoped Sunny would be okay... 

“That’s pretty racist of you, don’t you think?” The creature punctuated its question with a quick flick of his wrist that left four deep gashes in Sam’s cheek. 

Sam’s stomach turned when it proceeded to lick Sam's blood off of its claws. Cleaned, they drifted down Sam’s shoulders to his chest, ripping his shirt in two. It leaned close, breathing in deeply before it licked the skin above Sam’s heart-- it was a move Dean had done a million times during foreplay, but the way this... _thing_ did it made Sam feel like a lamb at the slaughter. 

Just as the tips of its knife-sharp claws started digging into Sam's flesh, a shot fired. Its head jerked forward when the bullet entered its skull and it roared. So loud... so terrifyingly hellish that Sam knew there would be a puddle of golden fear on the floor beneath him when he was eventually able to stand. 

Stuck in place by the amped-up demon-trap bullet now lodged inside its head, the Mark swiped at the angel when it dared to come closer. But then, something sharp tore into its flesh.

With the creature distracted by the brave little pup dangling from its arm, Cas injected the first dose of purified blood into its neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so... I think I might have a thing for DemonDean with a tail...
> 
> Is that weird???

**Author's Note:**

> So, obviously, I left out a few tags *Cough cough* hellhounds *cough*, but I wanted you all to be surprised along with Sam. 
> 
> I'm thinking of doing a few more chapters: two would be a flashback to Dean and Crowley and when he first got the pups, three would be life at the bunker now that there are two new occupants (maybe even a snuggle session between Dean and his babies?). 
> 
> What do y'all think?


End file.
